The Book of Firsts

Seventy-One

I only had four exams over Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, none of which were particular challenges. My main concern was Friday’s theoretical and practical Chemistry, since I’d seen the most meticulous of students hit hurdles in practical exams: beakers that shattered, faulty gas lines, not to mention the tiny, critical mistakes that inattention could bring.

After my literature exam Thursday morning, I spent a few hours in the library reviewing Chemistry, and then headed down to the garden for the last time.

Thinking about it in those terms was sure to depress me, so while I waited in the dovecote, I put aside everything except speculation about how Bran would interpret Everything She Likes Best. This exercise kept me entertained until my phone signalled that Bran was waiting. I headed up, and saw him at the fence. Then, in a moment of déjà vu, a girl called his name, and he moved away.

It had been Celeste last time. Today, Meggan.

I was very close to the fence, and stopped immediately, then slowly began to back up. I could still see Bran’s back. And, of course, I could hear them.

"What is it?" Bran asked, tone far from welcoming.

"I never thought there’d be a day when you’d look at me like that," Meggan said. "Don’t worry. I’m only here to tell you a couple of small things."

"Go on."

"I’m applying for Oxford."

Only the back of Bran’s head was visible to me, but the way he straightened was enough to reveal his surprise.

"You’ll do well there," he said, after a long pause.

"I hope so. Reading Classics isn’t practical career-wise, but it will make me happy." I think she stepped forward. Bran, at least, moved slightly back. "I made you unhappy, Bran. I’m sorry."

"It’s…" He hesitated. "It’s in the past."

"Like too many things."

I’d reached the corner of the wall, stepped around it, and then sat down. It wasn’t a completely sheltered position—a person looking at the right angle could spot me if they were paying attention—but I didn’t feel inclined to head back to the dovecote. This distance was enough to turn their words into vague murmurs.

For a while, I examined feelings. I’d been outright pleased to hear Meggan say she would be heading to an entirely different country to study. Distance would cut the last lingering threads of what her ultimatum had torn apart. Or work whatever magic a long absence could conjure. Bothered by the fact I was bothered, I crowded the whole thing out of my head with some handy numbers.

"What are you thinking about?"

Bran. He sat down beside me, glancing at the currently empty path.

"Reciting pi," I said.

"How many digits?"

"A couple hundred."

He made a vague sound of approval, then asked: "Want to go ride along the coast road?"

"Yes," I said, after a pause. "But not today." Knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to simply put aside the conversation with Meggan, I stood up. "Let’s play Tyranny until our mood’s better."

We went back through the fence, which Bran had left dangerously unbarred, and curled together on the couch, losing ourselves in a series of increasingly intense duo arena matches. We worked well as a team, and I found myself glad that our time together today had turned into something companionable. Friendship had become a very important thing to me. I wanted more afternoons just playing games with them.

"How greedy you’ve made me," I murmured.

"What?"

"Nothing." I put my phone down and turned to him.

Bran did not complicate matters. We kissed, fumbled clothes to the floor, moved together, then repeated with slight variations.

"How long will you be in the country after the dance?" he asked, when I finally decided it was getting late, and sat up.

"Three days."

"You’re still going to Peru with that actor?"

"I’m going to Peru with Millie. We’re letting Christophe tag along, which seemed harmless enough before his profile blew up after Sea of Silver was greenlit. We’ll keep him permanently in sunglasses and large hats, and hope for the best. Did you manage to arrange another internship?"

"Yes—we’ll be flying out a week after the dance. We’ll be back three weeks before the start of classes. When do you come back?"

I could see he was controlling his expression, and couldn’t resist reaching down to touch his face, gently rubbing a thumb across his cheek.

"Acceptances come out around mid-July. If I do end up going to a different country, I’ll be back for a couple of days to give up my rental. Can we take that coast road ride then?"

"We’ll do that whatever happens," he said, pulling me down for another kiss before letting me go so I could clean up.

We parted without further words, and I caught the bus back, lost in thought. It had never been clear to me whether Bran had been clinically depressed, or simply struggling with Meggan’s ultimatum, but I couldn’t help but be worried about how he would manage the end of this game. My problem now was whether I was doing the wrong thing arranging days out with him. We’d enjoy ourselves, sure, but given the attention constantly focused on Corascur’s Three Kings, openly running around with the three of them would be certain trouble, without even bringing into question how we’d all deal with each other outside the structure of this game. A clean end might be better for all of us.

I sighed, and played around with the Cheshire app on my phone, doing some calculations in my head before starting to enter overdue scores. I made Bran the narrow winner, purely because it settled the question of who was the best kisser. I hesitated over deleting the app, but decided to leave it for now.

This past year wasn’t something I would regret, but I could already tell it was going to take me a long time to get over it.